


Dark Chocolate Macchiato

by sleepynayeon



Series: cafe dreams [2]
Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Sequel, coffee AU, sana is a rich girl, satzu - Freeform, squint for michaeng, tzuyu is the cocky bartender because why not, very slight mitzu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 16:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11878347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepynayeon/pseuds/sleepynayeon
Summary: No, it's not like Tzuyu's going to have some happy ending like Mina and Chaeyoung are.Yet, she can't help but be intrigued and hopeful because of the girl named Minatozaki Sana.





	Dark Chocolate Macchiato

**Author's Note:**

> this story is a sequel to the michaeng fic, Black Coffee.  
> also posted on aff.  
> i hope you enjoy!  
> -i'm not sure how well satzu does on ao3 though lmao-

It’s there.

 

Right in front of her.

 

The very thing she hates...the thing she dreads the most...

 

“Tzuyu, can you please handle the cash register for five minutes?” Mina calls, scrambling over to the counter where four to five customers are waiting for their drinks. “I need to tend to all of them!”

 

That’s right.

 

It’s the _cash register._

Meaning...

 

Tzuyu has to _interact_ with people. She has to talk to them and – ugh – smile at them, and act like their existence isn’t annoying the crap out of her. It’s her worst nightmare. And now Mina’s asking her to live it?

 

Out of all the two years Tzuyu has spent working at this café, not once has she handled the cash register. No, for her, it’s always been making drinks. That’s her expertise. Of course, Mina and the other employees do create some mean coffees, if Tzuyu does say so herself, but Chou Tzuyu is known as the Master. Yes; the Master of All Drinks. Every customer is hooked on her drinks. Why else has their café not gone out of business yet? Why else are there dozens of art students that come every hour every day? Why else do people ask specifically for something created by Tzuyu?

 

Tzuyu doesn’t like to brag. But she has to admit, she really is a master.

 

What she isn’t a master at, is talking to people.

 

Tzuyu knows she should do this one thing for Mina. After all, the older girl rarely asks favors of Tzuyu, and she’s more anti-social than Tzuyu herself, yet she always goes up there on a daily basis and talks to people. And some freaky people show up.

 

That’s exactly why Tzuyu doesn’t want to do it!

 

“Minaaa,” she whines, dragging her feet and clutching Mina’s hand. “Can I please not?”

 

“I’d rather you do,” Mina says dryly, shaking off Tzuyu’s hand. Tzuyu just grasps her hand again. “Pleeeeeeeeease? I don’t wanna!”

 

“Would you like it if I left all these customers to die of thirst?” Mina mutters, once more shaking off Tzuyu’s hand. She turns around and sighs. “Look, Tzuyu, I know why you don’t want to. But you have to. Only for five minutes, okay? That’s it! And maybe someone will come along, someone who grabs your attention.”

 

“Like Chaeyoung?” Tzuyu smirks. She laughs at the blush that suddenly spreads across Mina’s face. The older girl unsuccessfully tries to hide it and rushes to the waiting customers without another word. Tzuyu shakes her head, still laughing. Ever since that one instance when Chaeyoung came into the café and gave Mina her number before leaving, the two call each other three times a day. According to Mina, they even go on outings at least twice a week. Tzuyu has no idea why they haven’t started dating yet. Why don’t they get it over with and just kiss? The sexual tension between them is obvious.

 

But Tzuyu isn’t that bad. She’s not going to butt into other people’s relationships. Besides, she’s happy for Mina. It’s not like she’s jealous.

 

...Maybe she is. A little bit.

 

It’s a small feeling, buried deep within her, but Tzuyu wants someone to hold her tight. Someone who cheers her up, someone who she can’t find anywhere else. And as cringy as it is, someone who makes her heart flutter.

 

(Cringy. So very cringy. Tzuyu is not a cringy person. But her thoughts are.)

 

There’s no time for dwelling over this, though. Not when Mina’s glaring daggers at Tzuyu.

 

So Tzuyu groans and moans and shuffles over to the cash register. Currently, no one is present, and Tzuyu hopes it’ll stay that way.

 

...Like her wishes are worth anything.

 

A few seconds pass, and a new customer strolls into the café.

 

Just by the look of her, Tzuyu knows she’s going to despise this girl.

 

She’s wearing a black-and-white flannel on top of jeans with rips at the knees, and light brown sandals that somehow compliment the whole outfit. Her hair is like Mina’s – it’s dark brown. But the differences stop there. There are light brown highlights in her hair, plus instead of being shoulder-length, it falls to the small of her back. It’s choppy, as well; instead of being thick and shiny like Mina’s, it’s thin and hangs in these strange choppy layers.

 

Tzuyu wonders how many times this girl has dyed her hair. Any more and she may as well go bald.

 

It’s a casual outfit, a casual look. In fact, it’s something Mina would probably wear every now and then. But it’s not what’s bothering Tzuyu.

 

It’s the girl’s haughty attitude.

 

The way she holds herself. Her aura. The glint in her eyes and the slant in her eyebrows. The slight curl of her upper lip. Though she does seem innocent and cute, Tzuyu sees through her. This is a girl who’s probably raised in a rich family, who’s spoiled, who crashes her expensive red Ferrari into ten poles everyday driving drunk with her friends but still gets away with it.

 

And god, does she look like such a playgirl.

 

There’s nothing Tzuyu hates more than rich, spoiled _playgirls._

Playboys are bad enough. But playgirls are on a whole different level.

 

Tzuyu would appreciate it if she never sees another one ever again.

 

As much as Tzuyu doesn’t want to deal with this nuisance, she has to. She quickly spares a glance towards Mina and sees that the older girl is still occupied with the other customers. With a heavy sigh – concealed behind her hand so no one can see – she meets the girl’s eyes and manages to smile at her. “Welcome. What can I get for you?”

 

“Um...” Tzuyu is taken aback by the girl’s voice. It’s soft yet high-pitched, not brash and loud like Tzuyu had expected it to be. But this doesn’t change how Tzuyu feels towards her: annoyance. “What’s the special today?”

 

Tzuyu tries hard not to roll her eyes. The special is written in capital letters right there on the board beside her. Is this girl blind? Or is she just stupid?

 

(Tzuyu’s bets are on the latter.)

 

“Today, it’s black coffee,” Tzuyu bluntly informs her, unable to hide the rude tone in her voice. She really doesn’t care, though, it’s not like the person in front of her is going to end up leaving a note on the counter with her number and a crudely drawn sketch of Tzuyu when she’s gone.

 

...Well, Chaeyoung’s sketch wasn’t _that_ bad.

 

It was really more like something Van Gogh would’ve drawn. But whatever.

 

“Ehhh, that’s too bitter!” the customer squeals. Tzuyu  picks up an arrogant and – she knew it – spoiled tone. Of course. Even though this girl looks fine and sounds fine, when it boils down to it, she’s just a stereotypical rich girl. Tzuyu wants to vomit.

 

She’s pretty sure she vomits a little in her mouth.

 

Before Tzuyu can deliver one of her specialties – a harsh retort – the girl speaks up again. “Okay, then, I want...uhhh...THAT.” She jabs her finger at a random item on the menu behind Tzuyu. Tzuyu turns around and sees that her customer is asking for a dark chocolate macchiato, something the café just came up with recently. Tzuyu hasn’t mastered making it yet, no one has, since the person who came up with it is Park Jihyo and of course she has to make every single recipe difficult –

 

Tzuyu hopes her anger isn’t showing on her face.

 

“A dark chocolate macchiato?” she asks, clarifying. The girl squints, then nods, beaming. “That’s it! A dark chocolate macchiato!”

 

“May I have your name, please?”

 

A risky move. Tzuyu knows it. Mina never asks for her customers’ names; she always depends on the system. But Tzuyu would rather enter a name into the system instead of searching for it. More simply, she’d rather hear someone introduce themselves than have to find that person’s introduction within a computer system.

 

“It’s Minatozaki Sana.”

 

“Okay, then, that’ll be eight dollars.”

 

Instead of complaining about the price like Tzuyu expects her to do, Minatozaki Sana pulls out a twenty and hands it to Tzuyu with a smile. “Keep the change.”

 

Tzuyu does keep the change, stuffing it into her pocket when the girl isn’t looking, but she’s furious. Does this idiot think she’s poor? Who does she think she is, handing over a twenty dollar bill and saying “keep the change” like she’s donating money to some charity?

 

It’s so, so hard to look her in the eyes now.

 

“Thank you. Please step over to the counter, your drink will be ready soon.”

 

With another forced smile and a bow, Tzuyu sends Minatozaki Sana on her way.

 

Finally.

 

That was...

 

It was...

 

Tzuyu stares at the cash register and laptop in front of her.

 

It...wasn’t that bad?

 

Admittedly, Tzuyu is still annoyed by Sana’s behavior. But...

 

...when she thinks about it...

 

...for some odd reason, she actually enjoyed it.

 

She gets the feeling that there’s more to Sana than just her looks, than just her seemingly arrogant behavior.

 

There’s something nestled underneath all that.

 

This would be where Tzuyu thinks that she won’t stop until she finds out what it is.

 

Nope!

 

Tzuyu has no interest in trying to get to know Sana better. It’s a waste of her time. Honestly, she has better things to do then dwell on the many mysteries of Minatozaki Sana.

 

The thought still lingers in the back of her mind, though.

 

A hand drops down on Tzuyu’s shoulder, startling her. She turns, looking into the face of a _very_ exasperated Myoui Mina.

 

That’s a surprise.

 

“Is she yours?” she hisses, gesturing over to where Minatozaki Sana is standing. Tzuyu peers over Mina’s head, catching Sana’s eyes and earning a wink from her.

 

Tzuyu resists the urge to empty her stomach on the floor right then and there. It’s hard.

 

“Unfortunately,” she mumbles, glaring at Mina. “This is why I said I didn’t want to take your spot!”

 

Mina huffs, throwing a dirty look full of daggers towards Minatozaki Sana, who somehow ceases to notice. “Well, the damage is done now. I tried to make her order for her but she said she wanted you to do it. And she said she was going to sue me if you didn’t do it.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Like she could. I don’t think the girl even knows how to sue someone.”

 

Tzuyu groans. This is probably the hundredth time Minatozaki Sana has caused trouble in her life. The hundredth time she has annoyed someone. And she’ll do it some more in the coming years.

 

Obviously, Tzuyu doesn’t care. She just wants Minatozaki Sana _out._

“Fine,” she mutters, brushing past Mina and heading to one of the brewing machines, unsuccessfully avoiding Minatozaki Sana’s stare as she passes. As Tzuyu gathers ingredients, she feels the girl’s stare on her back, like a laser, which she doesn’t appreciate. Nor does she appreciate the whistles and suggestive comments everytime she bends over, or brushes her hair behind her ear.

 

God. This girl really is something, isn’t she?

 

Tzuyu refuses to admit she’s low-key enjoying the attention.

 

...She’s low-key enjoying the attention. Though it is getting quite distracting. And annoying, of course.

 

Straightening, Tzuyu turns towards Minatozaki Sana, unable to hide the scowl on her face. There’s really no point putting that mask on her face anymore; she can’t keep her cool when it comes to this girl. This aggravating, frustrating, irritating girl. She’s only further annoyed when Minatozaki Sana blows a kiss to her, winking yet again. “Listen, you,” Tzuyu barks, trying to not let her anger take over her. “Quit it.”

 

“Quit what?” Minatozaki Sana asks innocently, doing everything but batting her eyelids. Tzuyu resists the urge to roll her eyes; the girl doesn’t have to bat her eyelids because she already practically is. “Stop staring. It’s distracting.”

 

Tzuyu can almost feel her blood start to boil when Minatozaki Sana sighs, musing. “Oh dear. I don’t think I can do that. You’re just too irresistible. And hot.”

 

Another wink.

 

“Minatozaki Sana,” Tzuyu snarls, clutching her shirt tight. It’s a mere replacement for her customer’s neck. “Shut. Up.”

 

Minatozaki Sana pouts. “Don’t call me that!”

 

“Call you what?”

 

“Minatozaki Sana. I don’t like being called by my full name! It’s just Sana, okay? Sana.”

 

And here comes another wink.

 

Despite the absurdity of it all, Tzuyu can’t help but feel warm at what Sana – yes, _Sana_ – just said. It’s pathetic, but she feels...special. Included. Like she’s been told a secret/

 

Stupid Chou Tzuyu.

 

Tzuyu scoffs, intensifying her glare. “Whatever. Just shut up. Unless you don’t want your drink.”

 

“It’s being prepared by you, so why wouldn’t I want it?” Sana says, smiling sweetly. Not to mention flirtatiously. Tzuyu scoffs again and turns back to the machines, shoveling ice into a blender. A playgirl. That’s all she is. A playgirl. A spoiled, rich, arrogant, annoying, frustrating, perverted, beautiful, charming, soft-voiced playgirl.

 

That’s it.

 

(There’s a bright red blush spreading across Tzuyu’s face. Mina looks at her strangely.)

 

Within the next few minutes, Tzuyu somehow manages to cut herself at least fifteen times. Opening the milk – nicks her finger. Scraping leftover ice into the blender with a knife – scrapes her middle finger too. Putting the lid on the blender – closes the lid on her finger. She’s distracted. This is completely unlike her.

 

And it’s because of a certain person.

 

But why would Tzuyu acknowledge that?

 

That certain person is an absolute piece of –

 

“Tzuyu?”

 

Tzuyu feels her hand being picked up by gentle, soft fingers and looks up – or rather, looks down – at the person who has suddenly appeared beside her. It’s Mina, of course, ditching her cashier position to take care of Tzuyu instead. How very like her. Tzuyu feels a surge of affection for her friend; the young woman is always there when Tzuyu needs her, even when she’s not aware of it herself.

 

“These are bad cuts,” Mina murmurs, running her fingers against them. Tzuyu winces, and Mina looks up at her in concern. “Does it hurt?”

 

“Well, obviously,” Tzuyu spits. She tones down the seething resentment she holds for the world and everyone on it currently and addresses Mina with a more gentle voice. “I think I’ll be fine. For now. I have an order to finish.”

 

Tzuyu finds it funny how Mina’s expression immediately sours. She draws away, shaking her head. “If you were Chaeyoung and that girl latched onto you, I’d roundhouse kick her to the ends of the earth,” she grumbles, showing an unusual bitter attitude towards Sana. Tzuyu has the weird urge to defend Sana, to say that the girl isn’t as bad as she seems, but her mind takes over her heart, and honestly? Sana deserves it.

 

“If I was Chaeyoung, eh?” she teases, smirking as Mina gets flustered. Mina’s older than her, but Tzuyu still strokes Mina’s hair a few times, smiling. “You’ll be a great girlfriend to her. Trust me.”

 

(And this is an unusual show of kindness. Tzuyu’s completely off today.)

 

“Maybe,” Mina says, shrugging. Tzuyu’s about to tell her to stop doubting herself before she hears a shout from behind them. “Tzuyu, where’s my lovingly brewed drink?”

 

The two reactions from the bartenders are entirely different. Mina laughs, while Tzuyu looks back at the repeat offender and glares. “Well, you should finish lovingly crafting her order,” Mina says teasingly. The tables have turned, it seems. Tzuyu turns her glare on Mina – though it’s more playful now – and says threateningly, “Don’t you start!”

 

With another good laugh, Mina heads back to the cash register, leaving Tzuyu alone.

 

Alone with a demon behind her.

 

Carefully, as to not cut herself _again,_ Tzuyu flicks the ON switch and lets the blender do its work while she prepares the whipped cream and dark chocolate drizzle. She hesitates before grabbing the bottle of caramel, too. It’ll be a nice addition. Or, she’s hoping, it’ll taste absolutely disgusting and make Sana never want to come back ever again.

 

The former is more likely. But a girl can dream, right?

 

As Tzuyu empties the blender into a cup and applies the finishing touches, she’s more than grateful for the silence behind her. It’s a relatively quiet day today, other than for the murmurs near the back of the café, where customers are sitting, and these days are the best for Tzuyu. She keeps her calm, never gets distracted.

 

Well, that’s...not true.

 

Not for today, at least.

 

Sighing in satisfaction, Tzuyu gazes upon her artwork. It’s artwork to her: the perfectly blended drink, the carefully applied whipped cream, the crossing drizzles of caramel and melted dark chocolate. A shame that this has to go to the person who deserves it the least.

 

Or the most.

 

Tzuyu’s not getting started on that. She’d rather push all those feelings down and not let them surface, because god knows what would happen if they surfaced.

 

She picks up the cup, making sure to stick a straw inside it, and safely delivers it to Sana, setting it on the counter in front of her. “Your drink,” she more or less growls. “Enjoy.”

 

(The hidden meaning: I hope you choke on it and end up having a spasm on the floor, dying a slow death.)

 

“Aww, Tzuyu made a cute drink for me!” Sana squeals, raising the cup to the ceiling like it’s some kind of sacrifice to the gods. “I’ll treasure this forever! I’ll keep the cup on my shelf!”

 

“That’s stalker like,” Tzuyu says under her breath. But she’s relieved – and just a little disappointed, but who’s asking? – and turns away, closing her eyes.

 

Unfortunately – or fortunately – Sana doesn’t leave yet.

 

“What’s that on your hand?”

 

Tzuyu feels herself being yanked back by the very hand she had cut herself fifteen times on. A thumb presses hard against one particular cut, and she yelps in pain, pulling her hand out of Sana’s grip and cradling it to her chest. All her cuts have started oozing blood again, she observes, and tears start welling in her eyes as her brain registers the ache of fifteen cuts all at once.

 

Tzuyu has never been good with pain. She can hide her emotions for everything else, but for pain, it’s hard.

 

She wishes she wasn’t in front of Sana.

 

“Tzuyu. Look at me.”

 

Tzuyu meets Sana’s eyes, which are surprisingly unwavering and clear.

 

“How did you cut yourself so many times?”

 

An incoherent mumble makes its way out of Tzuyu’s mouth.

 

Sana’s eyebrows furrow.

 

“I didn’t hear that. Speak up.”

 

“I got hurt while making your thing,” Tzuyu whimpers. The blood hasn’t stopped, no matter how many times she rubs it away, and the pain has just gotten worse. All of this is getting to her, and now she’s unable to use language proper of an adult.

 

She’s never hated life more than she does now.

 

Softly, Sana coaxes Tzuyu to let go of her hand. Tzuyu does, slowly outstretching it to Sana, who takes it in her own hands, holding it close to her face and blowing on the wounds. Not too hard, Tzuyu realizes, it’s just right. It’s a soothing breeze, almost.

 

There _is_ something underneath Sana’s seemingly arrogant and annoying surface. And yet, Tzuyu ignored it before.

 

How stupid she is.

 

“Do you have a first-aid kit?” Sana asks. Tzuyu nods, wordlessly gesturing to the door located right beside the brewing counter. Tenderly, Sana sets Tzuyu’s hand on the counter, palm down, and briskly walks over to the room Tzuyu had gestured to. Seconds pass, and Sana’s back, holding a small, white case. She comes around the counter and opens the case, swiftly extracting gauze, bandages, and anti-bacterial cream.

 

Tzuyu is faintly aware of Mina watching them. And the customers watching them. She also knows it’s unsanitary to do this on a counter where they serve drinks. But she’ll wipe it down later. No problem.

 

“Are you a nurse or something?” Tzuyu asks, her voice almost hushed, in a way. She means to make a quip, but the pain is too much. Sana chuckles, looking up from wrapping Tzuyu’s hand and meeting her eyes again.

 

Those eyes are so deep, Tzuyu realizes. She wants to be lost in them.

 

She really, really wants to lose herself in Sana’s eyes.

 

And now she wants to slap herself.

 

Pain, for Tzuyu, has the same effect as alcohol.

 

Alcohol makes one drunk. Pain makes Tzuyu basically drunk.

 

“All my friends are doctors-in-training,” Sana replies, turning her focus back to Tzuyu’s hand. “I don’t want to be a doctor. But they still made me learn the basics, and then some. If I took an exam for medical school, I’d probably pass.”

 

“Then why don’t you take that exam?” Tzuyu blurts out. “You can easily become a doctor. It’s a well paying job!”

 

Sana looks up at Tzuyu again, not with an exasperated look – which is what Tzuyu expected, because of her stupidity – but with a firm yet gentle one. A small smile is playing on her lips. “I don’t want to become a doctor, Tzuyu. I don’t want to become anything right now.”

 

Tzuyu is bewildered, and it’s clearly showing, as Sana grins and resumes her work. “I can’t explain it. It’s not that I don’t know what to do with my life, I have quite a few ideas of what I want to do, but right now, I’m not ready. I’m not at that stage, you know? I don’t want to be burdened just yet. I want to just float around like a cloud. I want to experience as many aspects of life as I can before I anchor myself to the ground and become occupied in whatever keeps me down.” She clears her throat, and Tzuyu knows Sana’s close to tears.

 

Tzuyu’s close to tears, herself.

 

Not from the pain – it’s gone.

 

But from Minatozaki Sana.

 

With a pat on Tzuyu’s hand, Sana closes the kit, beaming at Tzuyu. “All done! Look at that, you got a three for one. For the small price of a drink, you got my services, my money, and me!”

 

Tzuyu braces herself – wait for it –

 

There it is. The wink.

 

Somehow, it’s not as annoying.

 

_Annoying._

Minutes ago, that word was being thrown around in every corner of Tzuyu’s mind as she gazed at Sana. Now, it’s a far stretch from what Sana really is.

 

She’s nowhere near annoying. It’s just a mask.

 

Sana truly is interesting. And definitely someone Tzuyu wants to stick around with.

 

She can’t believe she’s admitting this to herself. But it’s true, isn’t it?

 

“H-hey!”

 

Sana turns around, clutching her drink in one hand and her wallet in another. She smiles at Tzuyu, albeit a confused one. It’s nothing like the cocky, flirtatious attitude she showed when she entered the café. “Yeah?”

 

Tzuyu can’t believe a number of things right now.

 

Including the fact that she’s really going to ask Sana for her number.

 

“Um...” Tzuyu looks down, her chin pressed against her chest. “CanIhaveyournumber?”

 

As fast as it was said, it’s a wonder Sana understands it. She laughs – a laugh that could be called a windshield wiper laugh, but to Tzuyu, it’s music – and pulls out a pen from her wallet. (Tzuyu doesn’t question it.) She grabs Tzuyu’s good hand, flips it over, and hurriedly scribbles down her number on Tzuyu’s palm, capping the pen and once more winking at Tzuyu.

 

Tzuyu’s finding the wink cute.

 

“I’ll be waiting for your text, then,” Sana says, her voice dark and seductive. It immediately brightens up as she laughs again, and it – why is Tzuyu being so cringy now? – brightens up Tzuyu’s day as well. Sana waves, exiting the café, leaving Tzuyu, who is waving with her mouth half open and her eyes glazed over. How does she know? Because Mina comes over and tells her exactly that.

 

“Meaning to say, I look exactly like you did when you saw Chaeyoung,” Tzuyu retorts promptly, causing Mina to blush bright red again. “Wh-whatever,” she stammers, quickly changing the subject. “You like her, don’t you?”

 

Tzuyu knows she can’t hide this from Mina.

 

So she admits it.

 

“Yes, fine, I do,” Tzuyu snaps, groaning as Mina lets out a squeal – a quiet one, obviously – and grips Tzuyu’s hands in hers. “Good luck, then!”

 

“Good luck, yourself, you’re not even dating Chaeyoung, idiot,” Tzuyu says, rolling her eyes. Mina mock pouts and heads back to the cash register, where a customer is waiting. Tzuyu grabs a few napkins and runs cold water over them for a second so she can wipe down the counter where Sana was treating her. But upon starting, she finds herself stopping and leaning against the counter instead, both elbows resting on the hard surface. She thinks about Chaeyoung and Mina, with their heavy sexual tension, their awkward interactions, and how comfortable they are when they’re just being themselves.

 

(Their sexual tension is so frustrating, sometimes Tzuyu just wants to smash their heads together to _force_ them to kiss. Can’t they at least just hold hands?)

 

Then she imagines herself and Sana in their place.

 

Doing that makes her notice many things.

 

One: Sana definitely cheers her up.

 

Two: She doesn’t think she’ll ever find someone like Sana anywhere else.

 

Three: It’s easy to imagine herself safely tucked in Sana’s arms.

 

And four: Her heart is jackhammering through her chest just thinking of the girl.

 

All of these are what she wishes in a partner.

 

And all of these requirements are met.

 

Tzuyu closes her eyes, drowning in the thoughts of Sana. Funny, how she hated her at first sight and now she’s in love. It’s hate at first sight. Or was it really love?

 

How easy it is, to fall in love. Mina did within seconds. (Probably. Definitely.) Tzuyu has within minutes.

 

Is this how Mina feels? When she sees Chaeyoung?

 

Is this how Mina felt? When she realized she got to meet Chaeyoung through _coffee,_ of all things?

 

Because, after all, Tzuyu met Sana through a macchiato.

 

A dark chocolate macchiato.

 

And, when she thinks about it, she really wouldn’t have it any other way.

 


End file.
